If I Were They

I felt embarrassed

I told her “maybe we should hang out when I’m not being so weird”

She looked down and chuckled

Then slowly looking up at me she said

“Or maybe weird is what I’m looking for”

I have a fascination with the word scream
Not a fetish or anything
But a curiosity
A preoccupying and distracting curiosity
Perhaps it’s because at least 4 times a day
I have the overwhelming desire to scream
It is such a strong impulse
Such a powerfully nagging feeling
“It would solve all our problems”
“It would make us less tense”
“Forget the cashier”
“Yea he’s right! Screw that guy”
“Yea screw that guy!”
“Hey. You should scream in his face!”
“Go for it, scream in that guys smug little face! Oh. $6.39 for a pack of cigarettes?”
“Scream at him!”
“We still smoke cigarettes?”
I just want to scream.
Why do they get to scream
It’s a powerful word
I’m in love with it
A lot of people love to think about Hawaii or Paris
My vacation is screaming
I need to do it
But I’m too scared
But it’s so beautiful there.

Why must my words be wrapped around relationships
Reordered to describe my loneliness
And the loneliness that others have given me

Get it together!

I can be more than your dime-a-dozen daydreamers
Who still write love poems

Sure I love, but we all do and I don’t need to talk about it much anymore
The things I need to talk about most are the things others don’t discuss

So douse me in gasoline
And toss me a match
Cuz if I were to only write “note” worthy words
That you might relate to
Then I am already in hell

Hi.
My name is none of your business
But this is my life
And I know far too little of love but have spoken of it far too much

I have no need to tell tales of invented lovers
Or to talk of the same souls I’ve sullied in the past
Or of the collection of cuts and bruises I’ve cultivated from a handful of those I’ve let close

So I will share with you what my real story is
In stead of sharing with you what you would like to believe

Yesterday I bought a megaphone.

Now whenever someone knocks on my door,
I’ll be ready to shout,
“I don’t know”
Into there ears.

And this time I’ll be able to do it
Louder than they can try to convince me
That they do

You scream
I can’t find myself by your side when you scream
You are my favorite thing
I love you
But you tear down worlds
You destroy lives when you scream
You can be the most beautiful creature
The most amazing being in the whole world
I love you more than I ever loved anyone
My first friend
My partner in crime
But you come into the world tearing down mountains
And your screams don’t have to be loud
You can whisper a tiny little word and it will be louder than a jet engine

But tonight it was different
Tonight you came home booming
You came home with the loudest noises you could possibly make
Crashing through hopes
Burning through dreams
Ripping realities
Tearing them in half like printer paper

You destroyed me tonight.
You completely destroyed everything I was
I thought I was happy
I thought I was getting healthy
I thought I had everything under control
But you came home tonight and woke me up—
no
—you woke the world up and ripped me in half
You cut into me again and again and I couldn’t do anything to stop you.
I couldn’t stop you.
I broke.
And the whole world watched

I love you.
So when you need me I will be there.
There is nothing you could possibly do that would make me stop loving you.
Absolutely nothing.
I just…..I just need to write this down so I can push through it
So I can fully feel everything you made me feel tonight
So I can come back to this and feel it again
Because I need to remember everything

You are not just your scream
But you’re not just your smile
You are both
And I need to remember that

I once knew a poet who would shout his experience

His words were quick and precise but he, himself, was bent and misshapen

Long hair waving as he screamed through his crooked teeth

He was impossible to ignore

Too loud

He, like I, grew tired of writing love poems

I still do it though

But his sentences were breaths of actual life

Filled with drugs

And filled with sex

The type of lovers he would describe would be mountain climbers

The would scale summits just so they could be closer to God

And they would do so simply because they would want to fuck and have God hear them sinning

He was a man who did not care about your previous ideas of anything

He shouted his experience out of his crooked teeth like it was the cure for cancer

Or the cure for depression

Or like he was armless

And you were one of those idiots who believed depression could actually be cured

And his poetry might slap you in the face if he shouted it loud enough

It was beautiful

It was ugly

And when he would finish he would say “Thank you” and walk off stage

Like he didn’t just change your life

I don’t say “thank you for being so nice"
I don’t say “thank you for being there for me"
Because people who are kind will be kind whether or not I am falling apart
If they were not there for me, they would have been there for someone else
They are beautiful people
They often have more cracks than they lot on
But they are strong
I love them
So instead of thanking them for doing a single thing
I say “thank you for existing”
Because I, like many others, know just how difficult it can be

I am screaming inside
My emotions are clenched fists slammed against the padded walls of my head
I allow my true self a single window in order to see the world around it
But otherwise I am a mental patient inside my own body
Crying and shouting
Trying to break free from the cage I am kept in
All I allow myself are jokes
I will tell you a joke
You will laugh
I will laugh
We will move on until I think of another one